Unspoken, Unheard
by TacticianZephine
Summary: A youngling covered in energon finds his way to the doorstep of the Cyber-Ninja Dojo, where he is taken in by the Dojo Master and his students.
1. Chapter 1

**Yeah, officially, every previous TF:Prime fic before this one is an AU, because I am dumb and just found Prime Prowl's bio this morning. This is gonna be epic. It's kinda like my fic Youngling for TFA, but it's cuter because all of the characters but one are canon, and she's gonna get pushed off sort of.**

**I did a cute. Love it.**

* * *

The sounds of clanging metal and grunts of effort were ringing through the training hall as the Martial Artists sparred. Their sensei drifted through the fighters, nearly invisible as he observed each pair.

The bulkiest mech in the group was currently winning his fight. He was twice as tall as his partner, his plating brown and silver, and his faceplates drawn into the most focused expression. Heavy Load's nickname (courtesy of his fellows) was Payload, because when he punched you, you knew it. Despite his size, he moved as quietly as the others, and was even twice as graceful as some of them.

His partner was Road Rocket, a fine example of the phrase "size doesn't matter". The olive mech was the smallest fighter in the group, which meant that his choice in sparring partner provided him with a pleasing sense of irony, one of his favorite things in life. He was faster than his partner in terms of reaction time, but his punches didn't deal out nearly as much punishment.

Next up came Jazz and Lockdown.

Jazz was living proof that you could be as loud as the Pit you wanted, but could still make an effective ninja. He was painted white and silver, with a blue visor over his optics. He enjoyed loud music, and his neighbors in the living space had more than once approached their sensei about removing Jazz's sound system.

Lockdown was a tall, awkward mech, who was disfigured from many younglinghood injuries. Not disfigured in the normal sense, only that rather than one solid green, his plating was different shades of it, and patchy, from where pieces had required replacement. His face, however, was white, with black markings along his cheekplates.

The pair in the farthest corner was the last stop.

The shorter fighter was the only female who'd stayed this long in this line of training, mostly because every other female who'd been accepted had quit her training on the grounds that it was "too hard". She wasn't the only female student, merely the only female Martial Artist. She was dark, slight, with a blue blade on the back of her head.

Prowl, a black and white mech with doorwings and a yellow visor similar to Jazz's, was perhaps the quietest of all of the students, both in movement and in social settings. He, like many of the students, left the dojo most solarcycles for a "real job" as a law enforcer, but when he returned home, he didn't bother to greet anyone, he merely went about his routine, training and chores, before retiring to his room. His only "friend" seemed to be the student he was currently sparring.

Their sensei surveyed the room again, glancing over each fighter. Master Yoketron was an older mech. He was both stern in looks and in behavior, acting like the sire that several of his students had never had, and the one that all of them, from time to time, needed.

One of the Fencers, Springer, ran into the training hall. Yoketron held up a hand to cease the spars, and looked at Springer. "What are you shouting about?"

"There's a youngling at the door... I think he's been attacked... there's energon everywhere... I left Dai Atlas with him... why would he come here?"

"Because everyone who lives in the town below knows that this is a sanctuary, and that anyone can come to us in a time of great need, because he will recieve help." Yoketron followed Springer out of the room, and the Martial Artists crowded out behind them, peering around each other.

Under the fluid, the youngling appeared to be dark blue and black, with some purple detailing. He was shivering from the terror he'd faced, and flinched away from Yoketron's touch.

"It is all right, little one. We are here to help you. Do not be afraid." He picked the youngling up. Now that he was off of the floor, the assembly could see several small feelers hanging from the little one's back. "Can you tell us your name? Can you speak?"

The youngling barely shook his head.

Yoketron looked at the assembly behind him. "Prowl, come here."

The quietest mech moved forward, looking at his master.

"Help me clean him up. Ember!"

"Yes, Master?"

"Prepare something warm for him, he will need it."

*~*  
Prowl followed his master into the infirmary between the training halls, and picked up a rag to clean the fluid off of the youngling.

Several cycles later, Yoketron's optics narrowed. "He is not cut. This fluid is not his."

Yoketron looked at the youngling again, and got a full view of his faceplates. They were purple. His mouthpiece was open, revealing pointed dental plates. His cheekplates were well-defined, every feature, in fact, was angular and sharp. But the real shock was his optics. They were red, wide, yet slanted, and rimmed with just a hint of gold.

They looked just like Prowl's.


	2. Chapter 2

**I find your lack of reviews disturbing. I thrive on feedback, guys. Please and thank you!**

* * *

Prowl carried the youngling up to the dining hall, where Ember was waiting with a bowl of what looked like a thick soup.

"... What is that?" Yoketron asked the female, who looked indignant at the question.

"It is _kciht-puos_. It is a popular J'wanese soup. My mother made this for my brothers and myself whenever we were sick, I would swear by it," she half-pouted.

Both adult mechs made a face at the soup, but Prowl carried the youngling over to his fellow ninja, handing him off to her. The youngling fussed at the change in holder, likely due to the femme's much lower running temperature, but he was not acknowledged. He _was_ acknowledged, however, when Ember brought the spoon up to him. He wouldn't let her put it near his mouth.

"What..."

She tried it again, and again, and eventually, the youngling merely took the spoon from her with one feeler and threw it at her. It bounced off her face, and she caught it, scowling at him.

Yoketron held out his hands. "Give him here. Perhaps I can get him to eat."

Ember handed him off, giving her sensei the spoon. Yoketron was also refused by the little guy, and the spoon was once again thrown at Ember's face.

"Oh come on!" she exclaimed, frustrated.

Prowl stepped forward, waving for both the youngling and the spoon. Both of his fellow ninja looked skeptical, but his request was granted, and the older mech and the small femme watched in shock as the youngling happily ate the soup that he was fed.

While Prowl was distracted, Yoketron took Ember off to the side, turning so that they could not be seen by either of the quietest males. "Ember, I have a... theory... concerning Prowl and that youngling."

"You do? What is it, Sir?"

"You have no doubt noticed the youngling's facial structure. Everything about him tells me that he is of Praxian parentage. His cheekplates, optic shape, and general body composition. Not all Praxians are possessed of wings. But there is another piece to this theory. Have you had a good look at the youngling's optics?"

"No, I have not."

"Well, let me save you the trouble. I have seen Prowl's optics many times before, and the youngling's optics are virtually identical, even down to the color difference around the rims of the lenses. There is no doubt in my mind that the two of them are related. Either they are brothers with a _very_ large age gap, or, more likely, sire and son."

"Forgive me, Sir, but I find that second conclusion to be impossible. I am Prowl's best friend, I think that I would be the first to know if he had an illegitimate youngling running about."

"Prowl keeps many secrets, Young One," Yoketron said wisely. "You might not know everything about him. And why would you say the youngling would be illegitimate if he _were_ Prowl's offspring?"

"Because I know for a fact that he is unbonded, and is not currently in a relationship," she said matter-of-factly. "I know many things, Wise One, and I know everything about my best friend."

The doors to the dining hall opened, and four large mechs toddled in. They were Yoketron's Wrestlers and Sumo Wrestlers: Roadhandler, Grandus, Motorarm, and Powerhug.

"Master Yoketron, Springer said that there was a wounded youngling found on the doorstep, we came in to check on how he was doing-" Roadhandler started, but was waved off by his master.

"Yes. He is all right. Now, you are dismissed for recharge. Pass this along to the other students, I know they are all outside the door."

The large mechs toddled back out, and there followed the sound of several pairs of feet scrambling to get to their rooms. Yoketron shook his head, looking back at the pair of ninja standing behind him. "Speaking of recharge, the little one requires a place to do so. Do I have a volunteer to take on a roommate?"

Prowl stepped forward with no hesitation.


	3. Chapter 3

Prowl took the youngling to his room. He placed the little one on his berth, and then fashioned one for his tiny guest out of his folded meditation mat and two of his blankets on top of his storage chest. He picked up the little one and placed him into his makeshift berth, then headed for his own.

His little roommate was having none of that. He climbed down from his space and ran after Prowl, clinging to his leg and whimpering. Prowl looked down at him, sighing, and picked him up. He carried him back to his small berth and put him down again.

The youngling didn't even let him turn around: he was clinging to the older mech's arm before the black and white ninja could even process that he'd moved. He was crying quite loudly now, wrapping both of his small arms as well as all of his little feelers around Prowl's arm and clinging to it as if the world would end if he were to let go.

After several cycles of trying to peel the youngling off of his arm, Prowl felt a tap on his shoulder. He merely picked up the sobbing youngling and turned to see that a very tired-looking Ember was standing there, with her arms crossed.

"Are you having a problem?" she asked, sounding as exhausted as she looked.

Prowl offered the youngling to her helplessly.

She shook her head. "If you wanted me to sing him into recharge, I would have," she scolded, prying the youngling off of Prowl's arm and holding him close to her spark chamber. Though still crying, the youngling pressed himself instinctively into the only warm spot on the dark femme.

Ember began to pace back and forth across Prowl's room, gently swaying as she did so, and started singing quietly to the youngling in J'nwanese.

"_Nugeb sah yad wen a  
Kool_

_Si ssenippah tahw dnatsrednu lliw uoy_  
_Em hcuot uoy fi_  
_Nus eht ni emit ym fo_  
_Yromem eht htiw enola lla_  
_Em evael ot ysae os si ti_  
_Em hcuot_

_Gninwad si yad rehtona_  
_Revo si thgin rehtona, seid pmalteerts eht_  
_Gninrom fo llems dloc elats eht_  
_Syad ykoms fo sdne tuo-tnrub_

_Nigeb lliw yad wen a dna_  
_Oot yromem a eb lliw thginot_  
_Semoc nwad eht nehw_  
_Ni evig ton tsum i dna_  
_Efil wen a fo kniht tsum i_  
_Esirnus eht rof tiaw tusm i_  
_Thgil s'nwad_

_Gninrom eb lliw ti noos dna_  
_Srettups pmalteerts eht dna_  
_Srettum enoemos_  
_Gninraw citsilataf a taeb ot smees_  
_Pmalteerts yreve_

_Niaga evil yromem eht tel_  
_Saw ssenippah tahw wenk i emit eht rebmemer i_  
_Neht lufituaeb saw i_  
_Semit dlo eht ta elims nac i_  
_Thgilnoom eht ni enola lla_  
_Yromem_

_Noam ot sniged dniw eht dna_  
_Teef ym ta tcelloc sirbed eht_  
_Thgilpmal eht ni_  
_Enola gnililms si ehs_  
_Yromem reh tsol noom eht sah?_  
_Tnemevap eht morf dnuos a ton_  
_Thgindim_..."

When she ended the final note, the youngling had slipped into recharge. Ember placed him into his makeshift berth and covered him up. She then turned to Prowl, waving to get his attention.

"Prowl, are you quite certain that this is a good idea?" she asked slowly, nodding to the sleeping mechling. "I do not have to remind you that you are deaf. If he wakes up and cries while you are in recharge, you would _never_ hear him."

"... It... is not... your place to... make that call," Prowl responded slowly. "If you... hear him... crying... you are... more than... welcome to... come and... quiet him."

Now that the mech had (finally) spoken, you could hear a moderate speech impediment in his otherwise deep voice, marking his attempt to match sound to the shape of the lip components that he could read so well. His words were close enough to correct, but he somehow couldn't get the sounds exactly right.

"Ooh, have I touched a nerve?" she asked half-jokingly.

"... Be... quiet."

"All right, all right." Ember reached up and patted her friend's head. "But I suggest that you keep him in your berth with you, just for the first lunarcycle, to ensure that he feels safe here. You do not toss and turn very much, he will be all right."

"... Are you... sure?"

"Quite. Now, I will take my leave, if you please, I am exhausted." She hugged her friend, and then left the room.

Prowl looked at the youngling, who was deeply in recharge with the tip of one feeler in his mouthpiece. Prowl couldn't help but smile at the sight, and picked him up, wrapped in a blanket, to carry him to his berth. Prowl climbed into his own berth and laid the youngling down beside himself, before laying down and slipping peacefully into recharge.


	4. Chapter 4

**All right, upon review of my notes, this is my largest fully-named cast ever. There are forty named characters, only fourteen of which are OCs. That's a 14:26 OC:Canon ratio, people.**

**I'm actually quite proud of myself.**

* * *

Prowl carried the youngling into the dining hall the next morning, and his entire table looked up at them. Ember nudged Lockdown so that he moved down to let Prowl sit.

"Well, hi there, li'l guy!" Jazz smiled, cooing at the youngling.

There was a small outbreak of chatter before Prowl shushed them. He set the youngling on the bench beside Ember and looked at the mechs at his table. He pointed to the youngling. "This... is... Soundwave."

"How did you learn his name?" Ember asked, tilting her head.

"Watch... him," was all Prowl said. He turned and walked to the counter where everyone's breakfast was waiting to be picked up.

Soundwave's lower lip component quivered, and he began to panic. Jazz jumped, trying to comfort the youngling, but his efforts were rejected.

"What did we do?" Jazz asked.

"I have eleven younger siblings, so believe me when I say that we very likely did not do anything," Ember sighed. She slid over to try to quiet the crying Soundwave, but she was also uheeded.

Prowl returned with two plates, raising an optic ridge at the scene before him. He could tell that Soundwave had had a small panic attack. At the same moment, Yoketron appeared behind the group at the table. Everyone hopped up, assuming the respectful stance. Prowl turned, and did the same. When everyone looked up at Yoketron, he addressed only Prowl.

"Prowl, I have decided to excuse you from required training until the youngling is settled in."

"His... name is... Soundwave, Sir."

***  
Prowl finished scrubbing the window in the library, and looked down at Soundwave. He picked up the little one, and looked at him. "... Walk?"

Soundwave nodded.

***  
They wandered through the dojo, checking out each public area, as well as walking down the dorming wings, and eventually ended up outside. They wandered back to the Obstacle Course, where six mechs were working out, the Boxers and Street-Fighters: Star-Upper, Tap-Out, Kick-Off, Oil Slick, Devcon, and Sky Garry. Prowl tried to sneak by them, but he couldn't manage it.

They cooed over Soundwave for several cycles before Prowl managed to push them away. He carried Soundwave to the gardens after that, where they ran into Ember and Lockdown. Ember was working on processor-over-matter techniques by trying to move the bench on the island in the center of the pond. Lockdown was chipping off some of the rough edges on the crystal stalks. Neither of them paid them much mind.

Lunch was all right, until the Melee Combatants, Swordsbots and Fencers showed up. Magnus, Springer, Dai Atlas, Drift, Star Saber had been "feeling left out", since they hadn't "yet been introduced to Soundwave". They swarmed, all trying to see the youngling as Prowl tried to shield him.

But, by the time Prowl had managed to get the Melee Combatants off and away, however, Soundwave had disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update, guys, but I've had real-life responsibilities to attend to. Namely school, college, yearbook, art, drama, and SPCA involvement. By the time many of you see this, it will be December First, and I will be dressed as an elf for Putnam County SPCA Pet Photos with Santa. Don't laugh: My dad's playing Santa.**

**I warn you: You might die of the cuteness contained in this chapter. If that happens, I am not responsible.**

* * *

"Soundwave!... Soundwave!"

"SOUNDWAVE!"

Lockdown slid down from his perch. "I can't see him," he called to his two fellow Ninja stationed outside with him. "He's not on the Training Course."

"I cannot see him from here!"

"You gotta admit. Little guy's good at hide-and-seek," Jazz added, appearing beside Lockdown. The short Ninja had been in the gardens.

"It has been three megacycles," Ember sighed, perching on the edge of the roof. She hopped down, hitting the ground hard but standing right back up. "Perhaps Prowl, Road Rocket, and Heavy Load are having more luck than we are."

**  
Prowl peeked into the library in the Martial Artist/Ninja living wing. The door had been left ajar, so it was possible that Soundwave had been in.

He wandered through the shelves of holobooks before he spotted a small pile of them on the floor. Someone small had climbed up the bottom two shelves to reach a holobook on the third-lowest one. But where had he gone?

He noticed the end of one of Soundwave's tiny feelers coiling around itself and sliding around the corner of the last shelf. Prowl approached Soundwave's position and peered around the corner. Soundwave was curled up in the corner of the room with the holobook, looking at the glyphs on the pages. He was still crying a little bit, Prowl could see.

"Soundwave?" Prowl asked tentatively. The youngling looked up, then tried to back farther into the corner. The Ninja moved forward a little, kneeling down beside his small companion. "You are... reading?"

The little mechling nodded a little, then looked up at the big mech. He reached up toward him.

Prowl picked him up, and Soundwave literally tried to burrow into his plating. Prowl shifted the youngling, then carried him back to his quarters.

**  
Prowl had managed to calm Soundwave down, and now the mechling was playing with a small collection of empty energon storage cubes, building small structures with them and then toppling them with the removal of one key cube. Prowl was reading now, reclining in his chair.

There was a knock on the door, but the visitor didn't wait before entering. Ember was holding a tray with two plates of what looked like dinner on it. "I brought you two some food."

Prowl noticed her, standing up and crossing the room to take the tray from her and set it down on the table. "Thank you, Ember."

"It was no problem," she nodded, padding over to sit on the floor next to Soundwave. "Well, hello there, little one. Are you building a tower?"

Soundwave nodded, placing another cube on top of his tower.

Ember smiled a little bit and got up, crossing to her friend and folding her arms. "You know, Prowl," she started, tapping her foot. "Ah, Master Yoketron does not want me to tell you this, but... well... he has a couple of theories regarding you and Soundwave."

"What... are... they?"

"Well... He thinks that, because you two have nearly identical optics, and you have similar angles in your facial structure, that you two are closely related. He is convinced that you are either brothers with a large age gap, or... well, he would bet credits that you two are sire and son. Now, Prowl, if there is anything at all that you have not told me-"

"I think... that you should... go, Ember."

"Excuse me?"

"I... said... leave."

She looked a little hurt, but turned, sweeping out of the room. Prowl sighed, picking up Soundwave and serving them both dinner.

**  
During his shower, Prowl couldn't help but reflect on what his friend had said. In fact, it bothered him so much that, after Soundwave's bath, he sat the youngling beside him on his berth and addressed the issue.

"Soundwave... if I give... you a data... pad... can you... draw me... a picture... of your family?"

Soundwave nodded a little. Prowl handed the little one a datapad and a stylus. After five minutes, he took it back and looked over the drawing.

The mech was tall, blue and spiky, with angry red optics. He had his hand on the slight femme, who was yellow and pink with relaxed doorwings, and was apparently behaving very violently toward her. Now, that fact was disturbing enough, but Prowl was struck by something else.

The figures looked vaguely like his own creators.


	6. Chapter 6

**And thus, I confuse you. Mwahaha.**

* * *

They were fighting again, and all he could do was watch. He spotted Rosanna under the table, and skirted around the slight brawl that was taking place to crawl under it with her. Her hands were clapped over her audio sensors, and she was crying quietly. He picked her up, hugging her. Her head snapped up as she looked in fear at the table above their heads. The adult female's lower limbs her hanging off of the edge of it.

That was it. The bastard had finally killed her. He needed to get help.

Rosanna hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back. He put her down, tried to mumble some words to her, tell her he was going to get help. She understood his clumsy speech, and pressed her small hand to his Spark chamber with a nod. He hugged her tightly one more time and set her down, slipping out to back door.

He ran to the neighbors, hammering frantically on the door of their dwelling. The couple that lived there was older, but they had always liked him and his sister. The male answered, and he might've said something, but he went unheard as the young one tried to speak to him. No words emerged, however, at least, none that were recognizable. They were only half-formed, idiot sounds that were trying to pass themselves as words. His mate eventually came to the door, but when neither of them could calm the young male, they became frustrated, and slammed the door on him.

***  
Prowl woke up, trembling, and looked around.

His optics touched on the different aspects of his room. The door to the wash rack in the corner, the shelves of holobooks, the small table, the weapons display (there were very few there), the meditation area, separated by a slitted curtain of sorts, made of thin metal.

Finally, his optics found the youngling, Soundwave, recharging peacefully in his little berth, sucking on the end of one feeler. Prowl relaxed a little. He was in his room, not back in the dwelling on _that lunarcycle_.

The lunarcycle when everything had gone so wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

**Lookit! I did an update!**

* * *

The blue mech throws the yellow and pink femme against the wall. Profanities fly from his vocorder like energon from a severed artery. Beneath the table, he covers his head with his arms to protect himself.

It feels like an eternity later when her body drops to the floor, bleeding and broken. The blue mech vanishes from the house, slamming the door behind himself. He scrambles out from under the table and shakes the fallen femme.

A second eternity passes, and her optics flicker online. Half-formed cries force their way past her lip components, and finally she manages to speak.

"R... ru... _run_..."

******  
Soundwave sat bolt upright, turning every which way to figure out exactly where he was.

When he finally got his bearings, he clambered out of his tiny berth and stumbled to his slumbering guardian.

He crawled up onto the big mech's berth and grabbed hold of his arm, shaking him as violently as he'd shaken his mother that lunarcycle, and panicking more and more as Prowl didn't seem to rouse.

Prowl _did_ wake, however, and he turned to Soundwave, picking him up as he rose from his berth. "... Soundwave? What is... wrong?" he mumbled tiredly, blinking his optics to focus them.

The youngling did not reply, he clung to the bigger mech, sobbing loudly. Prowl tried to calm him down, but this did not seem to be effective. Soundwave just wouldn't stop crying.

_I should call Ember, or at least one of the mechs with siblings_, he thought. _... No, I won't wake anyone else_.

By the time he managed to quiet the youngling, the sun was rising over the ountains in the distance. The rays snuck in through the window, turning the silver of the walls into gold.


	8. Chapter 8

Several megecycles later, Prowl padded into the Dining Hall with Soundwave. Jazz was assigned to clean up after breakfast, and spotted the pair.

"Well, don't you look chipper?" he chuckled. Prowl, too exhausted to read his lip components, said nothing in response.

Jazz shook his head, but vanished into the refectory. He reappeared with two reheated trays of that morning's breakfast, placed them on the table, and resumed his chore.

Prowl ate his breakfast quietly, and it was only when he was finished that he noticed Soundwave's was untouched. The youngling was too upset.

"... Soundwave?"

The youngling looked up at him.

"... Can you... show me... where you... are from?"

The little one looked terrified, but nodded a bit.

The bigger mech nodded in response, but semi-sternly pointed to the tray in front of Soundwave. "... Eat," he said firmly.

Soundwave nibbled his lower lip component, but picked up the little spoon and began to eat. After he'd finished his breakfast, Prowl took both trays into the refectory to be washed (adding to Jazz's pile, much to the irritation of the shorter black-and-white), and the quietest males departed the dojo.

***  
Soundwave peered out of the windows as he sat in Prowl's alternate mode. He indicated a dwelling up ahead, and Prowl stopped in front of it. He let the youngling out, and then transformed, picking him up and looking at the dwelling for the first time.

It was as he'd feared: he knew this place. It was the dwelling he'd grown up in. The names of its inhabitants were "Machete" and "Signal Boost". His own creators.

Prowl carried Soundwave to the door and knocked.

A swaggering blue mech with a voice, slurred with overcharge. "'Lo? Wha' c'n I do fer you, officer?"

Prowl said nothing, adjusting his grip on Soundwave.

"Aye, 's my son, where'd you-" Machete's optics found Prowl, and they narrowed. His voice raised so that, if he were able to hear it, Prowl would've covered his audio sensors.

"YOU!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Lookit me, updating quickly.**

* * *

"Anyone seen Prowl?" Lockdown asked.

"Not since yesterday," Heavy Load replied.

"I haven't seen him since dinner," Road Rocket nodded. "Him or Soundwave."

Ember's spoon scraped on her tray and she glanced up for a mere moment before focusing back on her food.

"Y'know, this morning, they were talking about going to find Soundwave's creators," Jazz pointed out. "Maybe they got held up?"

Road Rocket turned toward the end of the table. "Em, you're his friend, didn't he-Em?"

Everyone turned. The darkest female had vanished.

"Primus-damn it," Jazz groaned. "How does she do that?"

"She's a ninja, remember? Like Prowl, Heavy Load, and Master Yoketron?"

"Shut up, Road Rocket."

****  
J'nwan was a small village in the Northern Mountains, just above the quadrant of Praxus known as Petrex. She and Prowl had been practically neighbors growing up, but had never known each other.

Living in the mountains that boardered Praxus did not give one great knowledge of the place, but it did give one a mental picture of it, and ability to judge distance.

Living in the mountains gave you another advantage. The J'nwanese were a hunter-gatherer culture. Most J'nwanese were excellent trackers.

She prowled from rooftop to rooftop, peering in through windows until she found a promising place. She swung down, knocking on the door.

A pink femme answered, looking confused by the ninja's appearance. "Oh! Uh, can I help you?"

"Yes, hello, my name is Blades," she greeted pleasantly, using her sister's name. She held up a holoscan Road Rocket had snapped of Soundwave. "I am with the local law enforcement, have you seen this youngling?"

"Hm... oh! That's Soundwave! I used to sparklingsit him. He lives in the small dwelling at the end of the street."

"Miss, I am a detective, and he has been reported missing. Would his sire or mother be home? So that I may ask them some questions?"

"Oh, I haven't seen his mother for awhile, but Machete might be home."

"Machete, this is his sire?"

"Mhm."

"Thank you very much, Miss," Ember nodded. "You have done me a great favor."

"Oh, no problem!"

They ended the exchange, and Ember turned to leave. She transformed, and made her way down the street.


	10. Chapter 10

She spotted the dwelling, which was nothing more than a hovel. She didn't dare to knock on the door, instead, she crept around to the side and peered into a window.

The place was a wreck.

Normally, places with more than two above-ground rooms were architecturally overwhelming to her, but this one was just sad. She appeared to be looking into a conjoined dining room/living room space, with a damaged couch and several broken pieces of furniture. It was filthy. She could see a door at the other end of the hovel, and there were fresh-looking skidmarks leading to the door. Paint scrapings. White ones in the dirt and grime that coated the floor.

Prowl and Soundwave were nowhere to be found.

Fearing the worst, she slipped into the next yard and up to the front door. An elderly mech opened it. "Yes?" he quavered.

"Yes... sir, I am lost... may I use your communication server?"

"Oh, of course, please, come in." He stepped aside.

**  
Once she was shown to the server, she was given a bit of privacy to make her call. She contacted Prowl's superior at the Police headquarters.

:This is Silver Hammer speaking:

"Hello, sir. You do not know me, but I am close friends with one of your subordinates, with Prowl. I believe that he is in trouble."

:What is your location, Ma'am?:

She relayed him the address of the hovel next door, and he promised a prompt arrival.

**  
She snuck into the dwelling. She slipped quietly down into the basement. She spotted Prowl and Soundwave at the foot of the stairs, unconsious, but still alive. She padded down the stairs, stepping over their bodies and turning to kneel beside them.

But two-hundred-forty degrees into her spin, she spotted something more terrifying. A pair of dead females, one mature, one barely out of the sparkling frame.

The mature femme was pink and yellow, with a pair of audial fins and a set of small winglets on her back. Her neck had been broken, and dried, congealed energon coated her lip components and chinpiece. She didn't appear to have been down here that long: in fact, she might well have only been there a quartex or so, about as long as Soundwave had been at the dojo.

The youngling had been down there much longer. She was once orange, red and pink, it seemed, but stellarcycles, nay, _decades_, perhaps, of being down here, had faded her coloration. There was no telling how long she'd been here.

She heard Machete fumble at the door, trying to open it. His overcharged slurs of curses showed her that she was safe, for now.

She dragged her friend and Soundwave into the hollow beneath the stairs to wait for help.

Half a megacycle later, Prowl began to stir. He tugged on Ember's arm, trying to ask how he got there... how _she_ got here... but she shushed him.

"Lie still now," she said clearly, placing a hand on his chest and pressing lightly to emphisize her point. Above her head, she heard an altercation.

"_Sir, I'll have to ask you to move that shelving unit._"

"_There ain't nothing back there_."

Ember scrambled up, racing up the stairs and hammering on the door. "Down here, Silver Hammer!" she shouted. "We are down here!"


	11. Epilogue

:_Several Centuries Later_:

Soundwave walked through the catacombs, looking for the two names. He finally found them.

_Signal Boost_

The mother who, in her last intake, had told him to run. To run for his life. Whose last gasp had reunited him with the brother he never knew he had.

_Rosanna_

The sister he had never known. Who Prowl had told him of only after her burial.

Soundwave was grown now, matured. He covered his faceplates with a full visor now, not to hide his face, but to hide an injury sustained during his last altercation with his sire. He placed a crystal flower on each marker, and straighted. He turned, and walked back toward the gates of the mausoleum.

Prowl passed him, catching him by the shoulder for a moment. The brothers exchanged looks, and then continued to walk. Prowl stopped at the grave markers, and knelt between them.

_Rosanna_, he thought. _I am so sorry that I let this happen. I should've taken you with me when I ran for help. And Signal Boost... Mother... I shouldn't have run when I found Rosanna's body. I should've stayed. Should've protected you, and Soundwave_.

***  
A while later, he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned his head as Ember knelt beside him, smiling a warm smile at him. "Are you all right, darling? You have been in here for a long time."

Prowl nodded a little. His mate hugged him, and stood. They made their way back to the gates, where Soundwave and Ember's youngest sister, Reilla, were waiting. The brothers walked ahead, and the sisters followed them.

"Emmi? Who were we here to visit?" Reilla asked.

"Their names were Signal Boost and Rosanna," her elder sister responded. "They were Prowl and Soundwave's mother and sister. Signal Boost was a circuit booster addict who got mixed up with the wrong mech, a Kaonian-Praxian brute named Machete. An abusive energonaholic. Rosanna had a mental retardation from complications associated with her mother using circuit boosters while carrying her.

"Signal Boost was using boosters while she was carrying all of her offspring, not just her daughter. Soundwave's speech disorder as well as Prowl's deafness were by-products of her addiction. Prowl has informed me that he had two other sisters that he knows of, both were terminated, one before sparking, one shortly after, severe deformities would not have allowed them to live.

"Rosanna and Signal Boost were killed by Machete, Rosanna when she was barely out of her sparkling frame and Signal Boost when Soundwave was in his second youngling frame. That is when Soundwave found Prowl at the Cyber-Ninja Dojo. Everyone in the Corps pretty much adopted Soundwave, and when he reached his adult frame, our sensei assisted us in obtaining a replacement vocal system. It is not perfect, he has a slight speech pattern defect, but he can still speak on his own, which is a plus."

Reilla could say nothing. Ember patted her head. "I understand, it is a lot to take in."

"I just... that's awful... I could never imagine having to live through that..."

"They seem to have overcome it quite well, but it has scarred them both."

The group walked in silence for a little, then Reilla looked at Ember. "So... what is everyone doing now?"

"Well, Prowl has been promoted to assistant captain at his headquarters. Soundwave intends to become a gladiator. It will be nice to have another family member professionally involved in sports. It is so frustrating to talk of my races and have no one understand how competitive everything is."

They passed a group of Miners on break outside of a mine site. A spiky, silver mech glanced up from his betting game with his fellows. The group looked at them for a moment before the silver mech let out a cyber-catcall at the femmes and snapped off a sarcastic salute to the mechs.

"D-16, are you crazy?!" his purple friend said, nudging him. "You're gonna get yourself killed, lookit the black and white!"

Reilla shifted indignantly. "Ooh, Workers are so rude!"

"Ignore them."


End file.
